


Alternative Scene 14x01 Castiel meets Michael

by JustNeededAUsername



Category: Supernatural
Genre: 14x01, Alternative Scene, Castiel and Michael has a chat, Gen, Michael Possessing Dean Winchester, Michael enters the bar instead of Sam
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-28
Updated: 2021-01-28
Packaged: 2021-03-14 12:35:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,068
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29046234
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JustNeededAUsername/pseuds/JustNeededAUsername
Summary: What if Michael had come to Castiel at the BBQ in 14x01 before Sam arrived?From the moment Castiel walked into the bar/restaurant/whatever to talk to wannabe-new-Crowley, this is how I envisioned the story going. However, it didn’t. So, to get this alternative version out of my head, here it is. I really wanted to see some interaction between Castiel and Michael!Dean. I wanted so much more of Michael!Dean, period!It is like 95% canon, just with a different twist to what happened in 14x01 and with an added pinch of angst, I guess.Please enjoy!P.S. I own nothing but my crazy, little head and the random ideas it won’t let go of until I put them on paper.
Comments: 1
Kudos: 11





	Alternative Scene 14x01 Castiel meets Michael

“I realised exactly what I wanted.” Kipling waited for Castiel to prompt him to continue before smiling wickedly. “Everything.”

Castiel was getting sick of Kipling’s sweet talking while waiting for Sam to arrive. He already felt embarrassed that he had walked into this trap. He knew that he took a risk, so he should have been more careful, should have examined the room more carefully when entering. And now, he had to listen to this wannabe-Crowley rambling about his big plans. He zoned him out, just looking at the demon talking while focusing within.

He had been desperate and hopeful, and it had clouded his judgement. This was truly his last resort to locate Michael. To locate Dean. Despite that they didn’t have a sure way to pull the archangel out of Dean’s body, their odds were considerably better if knowing where he was to begin with.

He deeply hoped that Dean was okay, begged the universe for him to be okay. If he didn’t make it out of his current situation alive that would fine, as long a Dean would find a way back to Sam and the others. Please. _Please_.

“Darling, are you in there? It’s not very polite not to listen when spoken to.” Kipling leaned back in his chair, trying to catch Castiel’s eye. Castiel must have zoned out just a bit too much, enough for the demon to notice. Kipling got up from the chair that he had placed to Castiel’s left in reverse position compared to the angel’s chair. He casually strolled around Castiel’s back, letting a hand sweep over the angel’s shoulder, before he stood in front of Castiel, hands on the armrests, leaning into Castiel’s personal space. Castiel had a brief flashback to Dean’s protests of too close proximity, and he couldn’t help a small smile.

“What are you smiling at?” Kipling hissed and pulled his hand back to place a well-aimed attack to Castiel cheek. Castiel readied himself for the blow, but the sudden flutter of wings stopped both him and Kipling in their tracks. The demon and angel just stared at each other, eyes going wide at the static that filled the air.

Kipling slowly turned around, no longer blocking Castiel’s view of the room.

Despite knowing better – the clothes alone were a dead giveaway – his first thought was ‘ _Dean!_ ’.

But it wasn’t Dean.

The power and grace that radiated from the hunter was both thrilling and frightening. Thrilling, because his own grace could not help but to resonate with the heavenly presence, reminding him of years ago in Heaven, an old, automatic response of respect and reverence. Frightening because it was Dean, and he should not feel this cold and overwhelming. Dean was supposed to be down-to-earth and warm.

“Michael!” Kipling straightened up, opening his arms in open invitation. Still, Castiel saw the small tremor in his hands. “I am so glad you came back, Darling. I have been thinking about what-“

“Too late.” Michael shut him down, and without any further warning, his eyes flashed and every demon in the bar was flung to a wall.

“What the-“ Kipling exclaimed, but with a simple hand gesture from Michael, the demon’s mouth clamped shut and he was unable to make another sound, not even muffled protests.

First now, Michael seemed to notice the room they were in, running his eyes over the interior with a look of mild disgust. “I will never understand the appeal of these filthy little holes that humans frequent so often.” He strode forward, stepping up to the bar. He reached for a glass and poured himself a generous drink. “Less alone why anyone would _eat_ anything prepared in this dirt. Humans, for all they have evolved, are still nothing but animals.”

“No. They are so much more than that.” Castiel answered, though his voice wavered unwantedly, a mixture of fear and desperation affecting him. Dean’s voice was so familiar, Castiel ached to be hearing it again, but it was missing its usual life. Unlike Dean, Michael was monotone, arrogant, formal. Everything Dean wasn’t.

Michael just smirked at him, humourless and cold, simply just showing that he had known exactly what Castiel was going to say.

The archangel walked up next to Castiel and dragged the chair that Kipling had just sat in, so instead of being next to the angel, it was now right in front of him. He sat down, crossing one leg over the other and resting his arms on the armrests, the drink casually hanging from his right hand as he looked over Castiel, his eyes an odd mixture of indifference and intrigue. His presence and posture made the humble wooden chair look like a throne.

Castiel was stricken by how unlike Dean this was. Dean would have sat reverse on the chair, legs spread around the back and arms crossed on top of the backrest. Relaxed, casual. This was anything but that.

”What are you doing here?” Castiel broke the silence. He fought the urge to call out for Dean, waiting to see what Michael’s next move would be, hopefully finding an opening or clue to work with.

“I heard your prayers.” Michael smirked.

Castiel forced himself to continue to meet Michael’s eyes as he swallowed his surprise. Yes, he had prayed for Michael to bring Dean back. It was an act of desperation. And in his deepest hopes, he had wished that even if Michael did not hear him or chose to ignore him, that maybe Dean would hear him and find encouragement and hope in his assurances that they were coming for him and looking for a way to bring him back. Still, it was disconcerting that Michael had actually answered his prayer.

“It is curious… I had forgotten how it felt to be prayed to. To be worshipped and begged for.” Michael turns the glass in his hand thoughtfully. “As you can imagine, it did not occur in my world anymore.”

“Humanity on your earth lost faith in the angels. I wonder if it was because of the apocalypse or the ensuing genocide.” Castiel could not help the sarcastic answer.

Michael only grinned before changing the subject. “You are a pathetic example of an angel. Fallen. Broken. Mingling with humans. Guided by your feelings instead of the will of Heaven.” Michael’s smirk disappeared, and he tipped his head a bit to the side, as if trying to read Castiel. “And yet, you seem stronger in your beliefs than most beings I have talked to since arriving in this world. At least you seem to stand proud and true, as an angel should. Despite your misguided allegiances.”

Castiel did not know how to answer, or if answering was a smart idea. But after a long stretch of silence, Michael just looking him over calmly, he decided to say; “The loyalty I feel for the humans is not misguided. We are warriors and messengers of Heaven and should protect all of God’s creations.”

“By turning your back on Heaven?” Michael snapped, danger evident in his tone.

Castiel understood that it must be difficult to understand how abandoning Heaven equalled doing Heavens work. Especially with the reality that this Michael came from. He had had enough challenges making the angels of this world understand. Yet, he had not felt his purpose as deeply and fully since allying with the Winchesters; To serve and protect God and his creation. He swallows before answering a simple; “Yes.”

For a moment, Michael just stares at him. It is uncomfortable and hurtful to see the disgust and disconnectedness in Dean’s familiar green eyes. A man, who usually had such light and emotion, unknowingly wearing his heart on his sleeve, now cold and distant.

Castiel had to keep buying his time. Asking about Dean would probably not go down well. He had to treat the man in front of him as hostile. “Why are you here, Michael?”

Michael took a slow sip of his drink, eyes never leaving Castiel’s. “To ask you a question… What do you want?”

Castiel frowned. At first, he didn’t understand the question. Then, it clicked. He looked to Kipling, still pushed against the wall and completely silenced, as realisation hit him. “You are the one who talked to Kipling, asked him the same question.”

“I have been talking to all kinds of people, creatures…” Michael looked towards Kipling as well before adding “And trash.” He turned back to Castiel. “And now I am talking to you. If you could have your heart’s desire, what would you want?”

Castiel instinctively lowered his chin to glare at the archangel. “For you to get the hell out of Dean’s body.”

Michael laughed. It was nothing like Dean’s warm laughter. It was not deep and heartfelt, but superficial. No reel happiness behind the sound, just cruel amusement. “Of course. Here I am, offering you anything between Heaven and Hell, and all you want is this petty human to go back to his pathetic, unimportant life.”

“Dean is not petty nor pathetic.” Castiel responded immediately. “He is good and righteous and caring. He has saved more people than you could ever imagine. And he does not deserve to be enslaved by you.”

Michael once again seemed to study the angel, weighing his words. He took another sip of his drink, this time breaking his stare. “Dean is as broken and defiled as you are. You belong in the same ditch.” Castiel was about object when Michael added; “But at least you are honest.”

Castiel frowned, not expecting this turned in the dialogue. “What?”

“As I said, I have asked this question to many beings by now. The humans tell me they want love and peace and friendship. But none of them act lovingly or peacefully. The demon could not even come up with an answer. Until today, it seems. How pathetic.” Michael scoffed at Kipling before turning back to Castiel. “Even the angel I spoke to had the audacity to lie to me. They all lie. They deny their true desires to look better to a world that doesn’t even care. But you. You genuinely want nothing more than for me to leave my vessel. Even I must respect that.”

It was a small opening. Castiel had to ask, even though he knew it was fruitless. “So, will you? Leave Dean?”

Michael laughed again. Then his demeanour changed in a heartbeat and he looked coldly at Castiel, sneering. “Never.”

Castiel started struggling against his restraints in anger. “You will leave Dean’s body. He is strong and he will cast you out.” This time, Castiel continued before Michael could taunt him again, determined to fight the archangel, if only with words. “Dean is true to his word and in his actions. He is exactly what you are looking for in humankind, but you refuse to see it. Because you are nothing like him. You talk about truth. And yet, you only possess Dean because you broke a promise. _You are the liar._ ”

Michael was immediately in front of him, moving faster than even Castiel could comprehend. He leaned in over Castiel, eyes blazing and hissed. “How dare you!?”

“Truth hurts, doesn’t it?” Castiel smirked.

Michael growled and pulled his arm back, about to strike Castiel. The angel could feel Michael’s grace pulsing, gathering power to deal a shattering blow. His eyes were filled with hatred.

But it never came. Michael sneered, his arm shaking for just for a second, unnoticeable for anyone but an angel. Then he pulled away, anger and hatred suddenly gone.

”No. Not yet. It would be too easy.” Michael muttered, almost as if to himself instead of to Castiel. He straightened himself and casually corrected the cuffs of his jacket. He turned as if to leave but stopped in his tracks as his eyes fell on Kipling. “Oh, I almost forgot.”

Michael’s eyes shone blue and Castiel felt a surge of grace beyond what he had ever felt, and immediately all the demons burned from the inside out, eyes aglow, screaming in a moment of pure agony, before dropping to the floor.

Michael looked around satisfied, the cold smirk in place. Then, with a flap of his wings, he – and Dean – were gone.

Castiel dropped his head in relief. He could have been dead. _Should_ have been dead.

He smirked.

Castiel was still alive. Meaning that Dean was fighting Michael.


End file.
